


Will you still be there?

by NoizyKorat



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Child Abandonment, Childhood, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Chronic Illness, Dysfunctional Family, Freedom, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Migration, Neurological Disorders, On the Run, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sensory Deprivation, Underage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 01:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6495238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoizyKorat/pseuds/NoizyKorat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After years of confinement and domestic violence, young Willhelm finally makes an escape. Fast resolved to never go back, and not let himself be caught, he leaves Germany, for the strange, japanese island of Midorijima, that he's seen a lot of in TV. A materialized dreamworld to him, where nobody will care for him being underage, where people have intelligent, talking animal robots as pets, where a strange game is trending, where you can earn a lot of money - and feel virtual pain.<br/>More then enough reasons for the young sensation-deprived man, to give it a try live his freedom there. But will he find the little bit of happiness he so longs for, there of all places, which has been thrown deeply into martial law...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prison Break

**Author's Note:**

> Ok everyone, this is kind of a personal vent fic, so things might get pretty intense. Thus, I will put warnings for possible triggers in the notes before each chapter. If there's anything in there, that might not sit too well with you, then better skip the chapter. I'll try my best to summerize the chapters in the notes, so you can still follow the rest of the story then. 
> 
> To everybody who might be wondering about it, yes I do often name my writings after the songs that pop into my mind while plotting them. Music is a huge source of inspiration to me, so maybe I hear a line that kind of get's stuck on me, and then my head starts building stories around it. And yes, that's why I write so many songfics, but no, I firmly swear this is one is not gonna be one at all.  
> If you'd like you could rather think about it as some kind of playlist, to highlight the atmosphere of the story. I'm also open to suggestions on that here.
> 
> If you find any warnings missing, spelling errors, odd grammar, plot holes, or whatever that rubs you the wrong way, you're welcome to let me know. That also counts for the case, you have an idea, a prompt to throw at me, that you'd like me to do something with.  
> Of course I love positive commentary a lot, much like everybody else, but I also like constrictive criticism – it helps me to develop as a writer.  
> So thank you in advance, and have a good time!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Noiz wakes up after another attack, in the same old confinement room, he's up for a surprise. With a simple trick, he's given a long awaited chance. One he won't let pass, so he makes a run for it. With a laughing, but also a crying eye, and one single memory to spurr him on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I don't own DRAMAtical Murder and it's characters. I don't wish to infringe on copyrights or offend anyone, after all this is fanwork, without material gain.
> 
> Ok, so I know this a heavy start to a new story, but it simply felt right, so I put it down. I tried a lot to stay as vague as I can with all the sensitive subjects here, not only for trigger's sake, but also in regard to Noiz's condition, which I know a little taste of. It was pretty much of a borderline walk, but I hope I made it well, but I'll let you be the judge of that.
> 
> If you find any errors, plott holes or anything else that strikes you as wrong, let me know. Positive feedback is very welcome, too. Thank you very much, and enjoy yourselfs!
> 
> Trigger/content warnings for a runaway, underage protagonist, dealing with PTSS. Explicit child neglect, deprivation of liberty, physical injuries. References of domestic violence, family incest, sexual abuse and blackmail are also referenced to here.

My ears are ringing just by the sound of my blood thumping through my vains, as if on lightning speed. My vision flares blinding white, my nerves singing with a surging mix of what seems like a thousand different emotions, none of which I can dicipher anymore. What the hell is going on? I have no idea what's happening anymore. I can't breath, pressure building uncomfortably in my burning lungs. My insides are cramping so hard I just want to curl up, but I can't move, my limbs feeling as if they weight a ton. Scream, I only want to screem, but no sound seems to leave my lips. Are they even open? I can't feel it, I can't feel it... only this chaos... oh god...  
My head starts spinning, fast and faster, panic is starting to rise. Instinctively I try one more time to fight in desperation, but it won't help. My limbs do not follow my orders. Are they even there?  
Something connects with my skull, knocking it way aside, pent up air pushing up my windpipe harshly, yet is hindered to leave, nerves flaring up hotly, white vision turning red and the world seems to stop, everything winding down slowly, soundlessly, until there's... nothing.

Merrily chattering voices reach my ears, probably talking boring, mundane stuff. Dim, flickering light passes lights and shadows over my closed eyelids, flickering at a languid, irregular pace. Did I leave the TV on again? Sounding a little broken, I give myself a quiet, little laugh. Of course I left it on, I always do. There's good reason they put the damn thing in here – to stop me from bouncing off the walls. Here, in my dark, little confinement, where those dark and heavy walls still seem to creep in on me sometimes. I had screamed my lungs out in panic that they really would, when they first put me here, banged on walls, doors, broke the window, until I'd pass out, my bloody prints all over the place. Once I came to, the whole thing started from anew, and I swear I had heard Theo sobbing on the other side of the door one day, calling my name with the same desperation.  
Next time I came to, he was gone, I couldn't hear him anymore, no matter how loud I shouted, no matter how hard I searched. There was only this stupid, flickering artificial window to the world. It is all I have left to connect me with the world outside of these walls. I got used to it, accepted it, treasured it for being my distration from the fear, my companion in the lonelines. It is all I'll ever hear or see anymore, for all times. Well apart from...  
Stopping myself in my tracks I can feel my brain uncomfortably pressing against my skull, and my stomach roiling. Great, I don't even need to try and remember what happened. My body speaks for itself. Oh how I hate this... if only, if only I could get outside, outside of here...  
A thought rushes through my mind like a blaze, and I shoot up, gasping. Right, there...  
Before I can even finish the thought I hang over the waste bin, aside of my bed, retching my heart out. The doubled over position implies pressure on a hotly sore spot inside me, intense enough to make wince. Why on earth do I have to feel this of all things...? How much I wish this to stop...  
Once I'm as empty as I feel, I slowly sit up, placing a second, shaking hand on the other side of me, to support my weakened body and wince. Something shifts, where nothing's supposed to shift, and some constant, sharp kind of pressure has my nervous system on it's toes. Oh great, so he has broken something again. My attention shifts to both the broken fingers on my right hand. Scowling, dark storm building inside me, I survey the damage. Yup, broken indeed, but not too bad at least, nothing I really need to fix up. Not now at least. Maybe one day, when I'm finally out...  
A broken part of memory comes crashing in on me. The first hit... I was on the door... what would I do on the door? I'll be locked, as always. No matter how many times I'd try, it'll only open when...  
Another broken pictures skitters through, and reflexively I jump back. Bad mistake...  
With a choked scream, I tumble to the ground. Damn, the flashback must've screwed with my perception of the bed's dimensions. Frowning I try to touch my throat, it feels pretty funny, making it hard to breath, but there's that shift again, and my mouth contorts in anger.  
Damn, he must've gone pretty hard on me again, but this time... this time it'll hopefully be worth it.  
Grimmly solemn, I make my way to the door, crawling slowly, like a bug, because my limps still refuse to act on my command, and my head is still swaying strangely. But I will make it. Must make it. The hope keeps driving me further. Maybe, just maybe this time...

Finally that gods awful door is in close proximity. With a last blast of power I surge forward and reach out. My vision is swimming so much I can't see properly, but I can feel my fingers connect, by their awkward shift, and it budges. The fucking door budges!  
I don't care that I'm hitting the floor right the next moment, all these alarming signs pale under the sudden rush of something warm and floating, as breathless little laughs shake through me.  
I made it... I fucking made it...  
A measly slip of paper was the the thing to finally bring me victory after all these things I tried. Utterly blown by the realization that now I'm free, after all these years of confinement, I lay there for what feels like hours, smiling to myself, as I bask in my sweet, new freedom, absolutely motionless, for what feels like hours.

Once I finally get my head wrapped around it, and retain enough control to push myself up and scramble to my trembling legs, I stumble out of that room I have grown to hate so much, and without as much as a glance back, plumply stagger down the dark, silent corridors I still remember by heart. Only at one certain door I come to a sudden halt, as if I'd walked into an invisible wall.  
Broken pieces of my father's voice, during an accidentally overheard phone conversation, come back to me. Something about making someone change their mind, something about money... a lot of money. Oh yes, I remember... the eavesdropping, that had the man flying into such a rage, that he outstepped every boundary and started to...  
I shudder hard, whimpering quietly and fight as much as I can, to push that hellish memory far away, from where it's clinging to my conscious like a wild animal to it's prey. It's hard, but reminding myself of that once in a lifetime chance I've got on my hands here, I can let go far enough to will myself back in motion. It might have been long ago, but some things just never change, and he's one of the people that more than applies to. As silently as possible I press the door handle down and slip into the dark room. My eyes adjust quickly, thanks to living in the dark all these years, so I don't need to flick on the light and maybe alert something after all. Meticulously I leave through the paper stakes of paper and neatly packed drawers and can barely surpress a triumphant cry, as indeed a fat envelope, filled with a big bunch of banknotes. Hastily I stuff it into the back of my jeans and sneak out of the mansion, as quickly and quietly as I can, and dissappear into the star-filled night.

Once I'm past the gates I break into as much of a run as my battered body would let me, grinning like a madman, by the sudden life igniting my whole self into a searing flame. I made it! I finally fucking made it!!! Something is floating through my muscles that could be warmth, my aches paling in comparison, urging me on and on, until my legs give in, in a dark corner I recognize to be far, far from the place they called my home. I gladly let myself drop onto the dirty street, gasping for breath. Breathing has never been as good as it is now, filling me with fresh air, my limbs spread far out, without touching anything for what felt like forever.  
Freedom, finally freedom – to be who I want, do what I want, go where I want, and nobody will ever come any closer than I want them to again. I could stay here, frozen in this moment, enjoying it forever on. If it weren't for the little voice in the back of my head, that I'm still too close to their clutches. If I really want to be safe for the rest of my, now hopefully long life, I should hurry to get out of this freaking country as soon as I can.  
Maybe I'll go to this crazy japanese island where they've got these funny robot animals and that strange fighting game. Yeah, I could imagine to like that, maybe I'll even become famous for something really cool like building life-like human Androids, or programming an even better game. At least Germany never held anything for me, so I have no qualms to leave it for good. Even though I am successful in making myself believe that, still smiling broadly, through the tears streaming down my cheeks. there's no ignoring the slight ache in my heart.  
Theo, if only I could take Theo with me...  
Maybe someday I really can, but for that I need to life on, and learn as much as I can, to make as good and strong of a man out of myself as I can, to support him, to protect him, to make up for all the years lost. Maybe then I can see him again, be the brother he deserves for standing by me, as long as he could. For this moment, this moment alone, I'll life on....

I take a last, long breath and slowly ease back to my feet, resolutely making my way on, to get out of this cold, gray country as soon as I can, to the only place I can imagine myself to fit in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspirational song to this chapter is "Prison Break" by Manafest.
> 
> You can listen to it here: https://youtu.be/-PgH_UFEbeI
> 
> And find the lyrics there:  
> http://www.metrolyrics.com/prison-break-lyrics-manafest.html


	2. Leaving on a jetplane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his successful escape, Noiz evaluates his options and makes a choice. A choice that might be the smartest to reach, but as well as potentially dangerous. A challenge he can only win, if he knows to play it tough - is he really up to it, and ready to do whatever is necessary. Or is he maybe running out of luck in the worst possible moment?
> 
> Edit: OMFG... I just did the second editing I usually do a few days after the first proofreading, and I was shocked I did such a bad job there. I guess late-night, when you actually wanna go sleep is not the best time to do an edit, so next time I'll know better. Thus I promise it won't happen again, and wanna say sorry for the late edit. Fatigue sure has gotten the better of me these days, and I can only hope that it'll get better now the weather is easing up. Anyway, thanks for your patience, I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as I can.

While I walk on and on along the way, I keep pondering, just how to get out of this freaking country as safe and quick as I can. Considering my destination that isn't going to be an easy task to handle. Still it's not a reason for me though, to give up and set my goals lower, lest to speak of going back. The thought alone has me quivering and shivering in a very uncomfortable way. All my live I was forbidden to shape my own opinions, have been required to nod off whatever my father said, reprimanded more than harshly for every wrong word. I'd lived solely on my parents accord, could never be my own person, was entirely stripped of any freedom. Now, these times are over – for ever. Nothing's gonna bring me down anymore. Finally free, I am unstoppable. That freakin' island is what I want, and I'll get there, no matter how!

Resolved to this, I get back to considering my options.  
Tramping could hardly be considered as such – at least not for the entire distance. It might be a cheap way, to have a chance to see a lot of the world up close, but it'd take an eternity to get there, aside from all the freaks I could end up with, who might wanna do whatever unspeakable things...  
No. No, don't even go there; that I tell myself firmly. My still swollen neck constricts even more yet, my legs slowing down with that disturbing heaviness spreading inside, which I know too well. I stop for a minute to close my eyes, take a few deep breaths, before I stubbornly will the anxious skip of my heart back to calm. These things are done with, for all eternity, that I know for sure.  
Anyway, money is hardly the issue here anyway, as what I have should be more than sufficient: I can surely say that much, even without checking, how much I actually got on my hands. That kind of business takes the really big bucks to work out – says the TV, again. So, what else could I do? 

Shipping would be a lot faster, and sailors might more tolerant about my age. It'd still take quite a while though – probably about a month, from what little I know about intercontinental distances. Coast patrol might be an issue though. Aside from that, I got violently seasick on my first and only yacht ride, which might be a problem in between all these grumpy sailors. Who'd wanna get teased throughout such a long ride. Maybe I could hide in a freight container?  
Might safe me a lot of money and trouble. If it weren't for the involuntarily appearing image, of complete darkness, of solid walls slowly closing in on me, coming straight to my mind, with a cold shiver down my spine. No way in hell I'll do that shit again! Who knows how long I'd be stuck in there. I'm not gonna let myself waste away from lack of nutrition. Not before I even got there. Before I even get to live for real! The next intercontinental harbor would be too far away, anyway. 

Once hearing the faint sound of an airplane, I allow my head to roll back and watch it, passing over the city lights, far above in the clouds and a huge grin spreads over my face. Actually why not take a plane ride? The airport is rather close by, and an airplane would be the fastest, safest and most comfortable way to get to japan. The tickets might be a bit pricey, especially on such short notice, but that doesn't matter much to me. I'm well equipped enough to allow myself the that investigation. It's got the best chances to pan out, after all. The price for freedom can never be too high.  
My start up plans once I arrive should be good enough to make up for it, as well. At least I hope so.  
Customs and package control won't matter either, since I got nothing with me. I can just buy a ticket, get to the gate and jump on. It'll be my first flight, but after all I've suffered through it'd be quite ridiculous to be afraid of a lousy flight. But wait...  
Only slowly it dawned on me, that I completely forgot to take my papers with me in all the hurry and excitement. For a moment I paled, freezing on the spot.  
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Now THAT is a real problem!  
Even if I could manage to get a ticket without an ID, which seems pretty unlikely by itself, wouldn't I get caught in some kind of boarder control? All the stuff on TV said, that airport security require some sort of ID too, to let you pass the arrival gates. Aside from that, I am still underage, which would require a guardian anyway. Well fuck! Things are gonna get REALLY complicated for sure. 

Still pondering the where and how's, I resolutely make my way in the direction of the airport, fast resolved to find a solution until I get there. There should be a way. There HAS to be a way.  
If I don't make it, I'll only end up back THERE, back in HIS clutches. So not gonna happen!  
Never, not ever again – over my dead body. Seriously, I'd rather kill myself right then and there.  
My thoughts dart into a thousand different directions at once, rushing by so fast I can barely follow them anymore. It built up more and more, until it was kind of likie I'd imagine a hurricane.  
For christ's sake, there has to be some way!  
Slowly, I was about to steer myself into one hell of a panic attack, spurring on my feet that seemed to get heavier by the minute, my breath quickening until it was barely more than a huff.  
The airport was already spreading out before me, but I only got more desperate, eyes about to tear up, heart doing somersaults within my tightening chest. Just as I was about to give in to it, let myself sink to the cigarette-butt and snack-wrappings littered ground, I spotted a rather shaby person, lingering around the busy crowd, sticking out like a sore thumb, by his leisurely step.  
At this very same moment, the long awaited, life-saving light bulb above my head flicked on.  
A dealer, of course! Like on TV! Why didn't I think of that earlier?!  
Stupidly grinning to myself, I fell back into a confident stride, poker-face put on, as I walked up beside him, in just enough of a distance to seem inconspicious to any bystanders, yet be clearly audible to him. My gaze flicked over to him, to see if he noticed me at all.  
Apparently he didn't, so I swallowed the lump in my throat and spoke up, voice stern and quiet.  
“Hey, could you tell me when the next flight to japan is up?”  
Out of reflex from being spoken to, the man turned his head my way, slowing down even more.  
For a moment he blinked in confusion, when he spotted me, meeting his gaze right on.  
“How the hell would I know? Are you even old enough to be here on your own?”, he snorted with a condescending sneer. My heart was beating wildly against my ribcage, yet I tried my best, to not let on just how insecure, nearly scared I really was as I raised a seemingly unfazed eyebrow at him.  
Without as much as a blink I shoved my hand into the hem of my jeans, as if I wanted to scratch an itch on my back, and pulled a note out of the envelope, securely hidden under my shirt. For a moment I let my eyes scan our surroundings intently. Once nobody was watching for sure, I sped up slightly, to walk one step ahead, my eyes still wandering around, as I cleared my throat noisily, to catch his attention, and turned my hand just enough, to let him see the note, tugged firmly into it. “Let's just say I am. Now, would you kindly assist me”, I retorted calmly.  
In the corner of my eye, his eyes seemed to bulge and give me a bewildered once-over.  
“What the... seriously, what hell of a kid....”, he growled to himself disbelievingly, and sighed in a short show of frayed nerves. But he got a hang on himself again, and gave in, with a slight nod of his greasy head. Inside I screamed with joy, but my face reflected merely the ghost of a smile.  
”Alright, I'll get you in on a last second ticket. Meet me in the men's room by gate 8 in 10 minutes, and be prepared to run, fast”, he mumbled grimly, with a last sidelong gaze at me and upon my approving hum, he departed with a quickening stance.  
My eyes lingered on his flapping coat for a minute, before I blew my ruffled bangs up, with a relieved breath, I didn't even realize I was holding. My shoulders slowly lowered, as the built up tension finally left me, while my heart skipped a little beat, as if to celebrate, before gradually slowing down to a more comfortable, easy speed. 

Wow, I never thought freedom could be so damn scary, though so far, it went one hell of a lot better than I'd have guessed. Now I could only hope that guy stays true to his word and wouldn't pull shit like robbing me, or reporting a runaway to the security.  
My hands were still shaking, when I stuffed them into my pockets, clutching the note in my hand. Vigilant eyes intently scanned everything around me, looking for directions and anything out of the ordinary. Keeping a casual stroll, I made my way to the destined gate, trying to seem like any other wide-eyed tourist, admiring all the fuzz around. Which wasn't hard at all, considering how nervous I still was. In fact I was positively surprised that I could keep my ac together so well. On the other hand, I've had enough practice on keeping a tight front.  
When I made it to the meeting point, I bit my lip hard enough to really feel the sharp prick of teeth. An old trick I've used for years, the unusual sensation shifting my brain's focus on my usually numb body, which made it possible to forget about my worries for long enough, to get back to earth. Quietly swearing to myself, which strangely has always helped me as well, I clutched my stomach, quickly looking around me, as if I'd farted and wanted to make sure nobody noticed, and disappeared into the restroom. If anyone had kept their eyes on me, than they wouldn't be surprised if it took me longer to come out again, and would hopefully hesitate to follow.  
The strange guy was already waiting inside, an underdog airline envelope in his hand. Awkwardly I lifted one corner of my lips, to indicate good-will and pulled my now way steadier hands out of my pockets, deliberately flashing the note. He returned the smile equally hesitant, obviously still puzzled, judging from the slight shake of his head. Yet he picked up the conversation first.  
“Well then, that's Düsseldorf – Okinawa for you, Mr. Thomas Müller. Nonstop and last-second, no luggage, leaving in 5 Minutes. All you gotta do is get to gate 6, show them the boarding pass and hop on the plane. The flight has 2 hours of delay already, so nobody should bother to check twice”  
Amused I snort, secretly glad for the input, yet I wonder since when dealers are so forthcoming. That should eases the process along a lot. Yet I can't, but think about my image as well.  
“Do I look like an amateur to you? Thanks anyway, you sure earned your bugs”  
With a still lopsided, but this time real grin, I take the envelope, not missing to take a quick peak inside, just to be safe - before I hand him the note. Turning to leave, I even wave a little greeting, but before I'm fully out of the door, he calls out to me at once, and I automatically freeze.  
“Hey boy, watch out and keep a low profile. They ain't quite nice to immigrants over there y'know? My son was a youngster like you, when he got over there too, and turned up dead a week later”  
There's a troubled look on his face, haunted by the dark memory, when I look back over my shoulder and frown in irritation. Who'd ever let a random stranger in on their thoughts?  
“Who ever is? I can watch my back, ya know? Bye”  
My reply came more chilled than I actually intended to, but I have no idea how to deal with other people, and much less want to deal with their emotional baggage. It more than confuses me, to have a stranger project that on me, as if I mattered to them in any way. I can deal with things like 'strange', 'ugly', 'fucked-up', and worse, but not with worry. It's a new experience, but one I don't pay much mind to, since I know better than to fall for that illusion. Once someone get's to know me, I'm only crazy trash, or some inhuman monster to them anyway. Even to my own parents... only Theo...  
Theo never was like everyone else. I don't know how, or why, but somehow it's very comforting to know, that there's at least one person to whom you're worth something. Yet I wonder how long he'll take to forget me. Maybe he did already. He'd certainly be better off without me.  
With another shallow breath, a last curt nod to the dealer, and I'm storming off. After all I've got a plane to catch, and a future to build.

I'm all out of breath when I finally reach my plane and hastily scramble up the stairway, to a very impatient looking flight attendant, pointedly checking her watch. She eyes me suspiciously over the edge of my boarding card, and I roll my eyes at her, raising a challenging brow, as if to dare her to spill, what she's so obviously mulling about. That seems to do the trick, and her authoritative gaze wavers into insecure, averting for just a split second, before she puts on an awfully artificial smile and hurriedly shows me to my place.  
Bonelessly I flop into my seat, and ask her to find me a book on learning japanese. As she scurried away, I close my eyes, just for a few minutes...  
I'm quite positive I've never been so darn tired in my whole life, but still I'm happier than ever.  
It can only get better – no, it will. I just have to believe in that strong enough. Theo said if you do, it becomes real and that I want, so very much. Maybe this one time, just this once, I will listen to someone else's advice rather than draw my own conclusions. Maybe it'll bring me luck indeed...  
The clicking of the stewardess' heals stops right next to my seat. Surpressing a yawn, I groggily blink my eyes open and thank her quietly, for handing me the desired book.  
With a big sigh, I lean back into the comfy seat and flop the cover open. It's boring me already, but there's no way around it, if I want to get anything done over there. Before I tackle the first lesson, I dimly wonder for a moment, what it'll really be like... this strange place named Midorijima...


	3. The pessenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noiz runs into a few obstacles with this flight to Japan, all puzzled to receive unexpected aid. That make him seriously wonder over a few things he had thought to know, positively suprised by the unusual helpfullness of perfect strangers. Safe on his way he wonders, what will expect him once he reaches his so wished for destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, and sorry for the delay in posting this chapter.  
> I had to move and things got a great deal more chaotic as they were supposed to.  
> Now I'm back though, and will try to make up for the wait.  
> I hope it'll still be worthwhile to read.  
> Thank you all for waiting and your kind patience.
> 
> No trigger warnings for this chapter, so all of you can read on safely here.

A gentle shake on my shoulder rouse me with a start, instinctively shrinking away from the uninvited touch – far enough to hit my head on something solid that I had not suspected to be there. The short pinprick of protesting bone shooting through my brain has me wide awake in a split second, completely on guard, as experience has taught me to.  
Disorientated, my gaze shot over unfamiliar surroundings, before zoning in on the unknown face looming above me. Without finding a voice, the young woman opened and closed her mouth again. Obviously she had not expected to be met with that intense a reaction, judging by her puzzled expression, while I gazed at her quizzically, if a bit scared still, from still sleepy eyes.  
“Excuse me, Sir, we'll be landing in Okinawa soon. I'll have to ask you to put your seat in an upright position and fasten your seatbelt”, she quickly rattled down the internalized standard text, in badly concealed embarrassment. With practiced speed my brain jumped into gear, right away. Aerotypic noise, lively chatter, her conservatively tasteful uniform...  
Japan... yes, I finally made it out of my torturous imprisonment, and went all out to catch a flight into – hopefully – my newly found freedom. Almost instantly, I felt more at ease and slowly slipped out of that pre-panik state, feeling my body slouch down a bit in nearly euphoric relief, allowing my breath to swoosh out in a voiceless sigh. Eyes turned down in equal unease at the strange situation, I at last give the patiently waiting Stewardess a hesitant nod, and compliantly go fumble for my belt.  
Weather it was the subtle tremble of my hands, as they clicked in the buckle, the tight grip around the armrest following suit, or even just a hint of my insecurity, beginning unease showing in my gaze, which had caused her to linger just a moment longer, will remain a mystery to me. Yet her previously terribly fake smile turned unexpectedly gentle at once, while her soft, melodic voice formed more words – so obviously off-script, a sharp contrast to her earlier speech, that it struck struck even me as quite awkward.  
“If I may say so, anyone get's a bit anxious on a flight at times, but it'll pass, just take my word for it: we'll touch down down safely”  
The increasing howl of the cutting down engine had me strain a bit to hear her properly, amazingly though, that sudden, unfamiliar reassurance did it's job perfectly well. Now even my roughed up nerves did indeed tone down a bit, just the same I couldn't even care less about my most likely dumfolded open gape. Hesitatly I nodded back, blinking slowly in confusion, clueless of just what I could've retorted. That is, if by any chance my voice hadn't gone into Error 404 already.  
That simple smile had the power to seriously shake the ground of anything I believed to know about humanity. Within less than a day, two perfect strangers had expressed but honest concern for the likes of worthless scum like me. How could that be possible? Maybe humankind itself actually wasn't at all as bad, as what I had seen from the few questionable members of said race, that have bothered with me so far. Or I just have a strange talent to downright call for bad luck.  
Either would be possible, but I wasn't granted the time to think more deeply about it.

Once the plane tipped down, I was pressed into my seat hard, with a sinking feeling, so disgustingly overwhelming in it's intensity, that even I could feel it – which was a record all on it's own – that took over my whole body, and there was NOTHING I could do against it. The sheer suddenness of it drew an utterly undignified yelp from my rapidly paling lips, and I squeezed my eyes shut, resorting to the only way I knew to escape such horrors, clinging to the dimishing hope of escaping it that way. It worked as well as it always did – namely not at all.  
Since flight was no longer an option – well, figuratively speaking, as flight had caused this, after all - and my head started to swim already, from how my overreacting body failed to achieve sufficient oxygen intake, driving my already racing heart on even harder, to try pump up all the blood that had pooled in my legs from sitting down for too long before, and an airplane was hardly an enemy to fit, there was only freeze left, rooting me firmly to the spot I sat, with nothing else to do but to fight the raging fear, that was clawing it's burning path through every nerve of my body. Stubbornly as ever I grimaced, a kind of warface I've subconsciously adapted from the ton of shitty superhero movies I had often used to kill my measly time with, and concentrated hard. It wasn't easy to pick out the sound of my ragged breathing, drowned out by the big commotion of different noises all around me, and the near deafening sound of my own blood rushing on. But what was ever easy in live?  
Yet I managed to concentrate on it enough, to slowly work it down to a bearable level, felt exactly how the growing oxygen availability slowly calmed my heart rate down. Once that was done, I pulled myself together, and decidedly, yet with a disgusted face swallowed down the bile that had risen up into my throat like a volcanic eruption. One last time I took a deep breath and slowly opened my eyes, once a sharp shake went through the rows around me.  
Touch down, finally. Almost instantly that awful sinking feeling vanished, followed instead by a blinding rush of relieve, joy even. I made it, I survived my parents, found my way here, and in a matter of only minutes I'll finally set foot into the land of my secret dreams, will take the first step into my new, my very own life. Just the simple thought of it, brought the somersaults back into my stomach, but for a whole different reason. I simply couldn't believe it, that all I had ever hoped for was due to come true right here, right now.  
As if on command, the announcement of the captain went on speaker, informing the guests, that they had safely landed in Okinawa, asking everyone to keep their papers ready for checkout and should remember to report anything brought along to customs, ending with a word of thanks for choosing their airline. Probably the usual standard statement, but still a whole new world to me.

Once deboarding finally started, I was beaming all over my face, nervously skipping my feet, couldn't wait to scurry down the stairs and take the first breath of my new life. Thus I mercilessly squeezed myself through the rows of patiently waiting passengers, throwing dirty looks bouncing straight off me, overridden by feeling as if my heart were singing in joy once I approached the exit.  
That euphoria was broken harshly, once I realized, that I wouldn't be as lucky, that they had simply attached a tubed corridor to the plane. Somehow I felt pretty disappointed, robbed of the experience I had painted so vividly in my dreams: to step out of the plane, the sun warming my skin, while the yet unfamiliar air enveloped me – just like in all these Hollywood movies.  
I tried not to pull a sour face as I let myself fall back into the deboarding line, even managing a weak smile and quiet thanks to the Stewardess that had been so unexpectedly kind to me before and trudged down the tunnel. It felt so cold and oppressive, that I couldn't but shiver, needing a lot of self control to keep the newly raising panic attack under control. The bare, constricted space felt just too close to the kind of cage my room had been to me all these long years.  
As much as I had hoped for it to end soon – just a minute later I'd rather have stayed just there, after just one glance over the tight security that spread out before my disbelieving eyes once I stepped into the terminal. The lump in my throat seemed to me as big as a rock, as I let myself be carried within the steady flow of people, towards a grumpy guard with a hand over the gun in his holster.  
Immediately my tired eyes scanned for an escape route, just in case. Something about this whole setup made me nervous as hell, be it the comparatively lax security in Düsseldorf, or just the sight of so many armed people in one spot, or maybe even a bad premonition, I didn't know. The only thing that was sure was, that I was likely to get into a lot of trouble, and better had to think of a way out pretty damn soon.  
Once I thought my heart would leap out of my chest at any moment I spotted a small crowd of bunched together japanese people, chattering intently, laughing now and than, that had walked out of the same plane, and were now approaching a different, less guarded exit, that I had not even realized to be one. Guess that was my chance to make it out of here safely, and I didn't plan to waste it. Once they passed by close enough for such a risky maneuver, I threw a good look around to make sure nobody important saw me doing so, and quickly slipped out of the waiting line and right into the merry bunch. While the others were too busy talking to each other, to even realize there was one too many among them, the one closest to me did notice and was now scanning me with a confused, skeptical look and opened his mouth, as if to warn the others. My heartbeat stopped for a minute, blood flow thumping loudly in my ears, yet instinctively turned a horrified, pleading look on the young man, and slightly shook my head to tell him of. Everything around us seemed on hold, for these torturous moments it took him to make a decision, where I could see the doubt and hesitation written all over his face, until finally, he gave me a curt nod and hurriedly turned his face away again, as if to pretend I wasn't there. Still better then the alternative, and relieve rushed through my veins, along with a giant load of oxygen, as I could finally breath again, my eyes falling shut, for just the tiniest moments, offering a quick thanks to the universe, or whatever, since the person in question wouldn't take it.  
And so I managed to make it out of the terminal safely, well protected in the small but tight crowd of people, most of which were luckily a little taller than me, and knew their way around very well.  
Only in the big foyer, bustling with people did I dare to let myself drop out of the lot, and even managed to catch the gaze of the guy that had silently accepted me in, so I still got my chance to thank him in person, with a swift, yet deeply gracious incline of my head, before I dove into the mass of antsily scurrying about people of various descendence, trying to find my way around.  
Only slowly did the realization hit me, as I stepped out of the building, that I made it indeed.  
I finally had fled my prison, and successfully emigrated to the land of my secret dreams.  
Here I was, right here, right now, standing on japanese ground, breathing japanese air, and I was still free and alive! If that wasn't worth a pad on the shoulder, then what was?  
I made it this far, so the short way left to Midorijima will sure be much easier. With this thought in mind, I looked around, finding a bus stop, with several buses waiting. As I made my way over there, my eyes scanned the signs on the buses and over their stops, spelling out their destination, and even if it took me a moment to figure out, I found the buy that'd bring me to the coast, to the harbor, where I would take it on me to do the rest of the way by ship. So I quickly slipped in with the bustle of people and flopped down on a seat, with a reliefed huff.  
A big, goofy grin slowly spread over my tired face, as I closed my eyes, spread my arms and allowed myself to simply breath, breath in deeply the scent of my freedom.  
Now, nothing can stop me anymore for sure. Only a small distance was left to reach Midorijima.  
This was the start of something great, I felt it right in my very bones. I'd rock this new adventure. Maybe not today, or tomorrow either, but I knew that after surviving germany, I'd be sure as death to find a way to get by there. I simply had to. For myself, and for Theo.  
One day, one beautiful day, that island wouldn't only be home to only me, but to Theo as well.  
That I firmly had to believe, if I wanted to keep myself up and going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of the chapter is named after the song "The Pessenger" by Iggy Pop.  
> You can listen to it and read the lyrics here:  
> https://youtu.be/Iv7Ac_E9Tmo
> 
> It just reminded me of the long journey Noiz takes upon himself, and the way he thinks of his future.  
> Feel free to let me know how you like the song, or what you think of the chapter.


End file.
